


Just Lunch

by cemetrygatess



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Epistolary, Getting Back Together, I have one mood and it's letter writing I guess, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Cardassia, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cemetrygatess/pseuds/cemetrygatess
Summary: A year after the end of the dominion war and six months after Ezri left the station, Dr. Bashir finds his thoughts occupied by one Cardassian. Julian finds he wishes there had been more to their relationship, but it had just been lunch...Well and sex.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	Just Lunch

_ Doctor, _

_ Have I told you about the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since returning to Cardassia? It was not the color festival, which I believe I did tell you about. It was not when they reopened the capital building, though I cheered with the rest of the crowd like a good citizen. No, the most beautiful thing I saw was the view from a transport. They are growing again in the countryside of Cardassia. I saw green for miles and miles. And because it’s you I’m writing, I will admit a tear came to my eye.  _

_ It has been a year of toil. I have told you about many sacrifices; weeks of hard labor without rest and not a decent cup of tea on the whole planet. There has been some joy along with much sorrow. Somedays, I am thankful to be on the soil that brought me to life, and that connection is enough to sustain me. After all, for many years I didn’t think I would ever return to Cardassia. I believed I would die without ever putting my hands in this dirt again.  _

_ Somedays, I find I miss the comforts of the station. Me of the past can only laugh. Terok Nor was supposed to be my prison, my sarcophagus, but yet when my body is tired and my home is empty, I wish for the hustle and bustle of the station. I think perhaps I judged too quickly the life of a simple tailor, and that perhaps I didn’t appreciate the benefits that came with that life.  _

_ But now I live a new life. I keep thinking about tailoring again, but my hands have become used to courser labor, and I wonder if they can still do the delicate work of stitching. Besides, it’s not a fashion show. It’s considered rather vulgar to look too good these days. My business venture would therefore suffer as I would never provide anything less than superb workmanship. I say this not to brag, but because I feel you understand. If I can not do my best work then I hardly see the point. Dr. Parmak asked for a new tunic and I was forced to turn him down. For the time being, my stitching days are over.  _

_ When you are at home, please appreciate those creature comforts. A hot tea, a busy station of interesting company, and a warm bed. Trust me, these are things I find myself missing. Now, I can only go forward. I must think of the growth here and hope that time will return to me those comforts which I find Cardassia to be currently lacking in. In the meantime, all I can do is watch the green fields and smile.  _

_ Take care of yourself,  _

_ Garak _

Julian paced his quarters. Every week or so he got a letter from Garak. It always said something clever or interesting. Always the man’s thoughts on some topic or other pertinent to the rebuilding of Cardassia. But the letters never said what Julian wanted to hear. They never invited him to Cardassia. They never mentioned that Elim explicitly missed him. And they never mentioned desires, emotional or carnal. 

Meanwhile on Deep Space 9, Julian thought of little else. Ezri had long left, their short relationship sweet but ultimately failing to feel like something worth seriously pursuing. He could not resent her for it at all. She was every kind of delightful but Julian found he inevitably felt like too much for her, and not enough all at once. There was a relief to it ending.    
  
But once the relief had passed, Julian could only think of Garak. The letters were long and kind and described a Cardassian which seemed to improve by the week. Julian treasured them. Only they didn't ever say the things he wanted them to say. 

With a huff he sat down to reply. It was best to let off this kind of steam. 

_ Elim,  _

_ Perhaps it’s human sentimentality, but I wish you would say you missed me. Is that pathetic? Frankly I don’t care if it is. Because I miss you. More and more with each passing week. I think the greatest mistake of my life was letting you go to Cardassia without me.  _

_ Yes, you read that right. Have you thought to invite me? I could bring tea. I would look at green fields with you. I could take you into my mouth and suck from you all sorts of noises. Whatever you want from me, you need only ask.  _

_ I'm sorry I never took our relationship further. When you were in prison, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was so angry with you. You would have committed genocide. You would have killed me. It made me think that perhaps I had been mistaken in forgiving you so many years before. Who was this man I shared a table with? Shared a bed with? Did I ever really know him? Did I want to know him?  _

_ When you returned, it was easier for me to stop the physical element of our relationship. It was easier to just be friends who got weekly lunch. I couldn’t be keep having sex with a man who viewed my death as a tolerable causality of larger plans. I couldn’t look myself in the face about what I felt about you. It was easier to be angry and to stop. I could pretend that was the end of it for me.  _

_ Was it the end of it for you? _

_ I thought Ezri and the end of the war would make me never think about you like That again. Well I was wrong. Not even an attempted genocide can break whatever hold you have on me. And if not that, what ever will? So I have forgiven you again. It was long ago really and it came too easily. I almost resented it, and I certainly resented you. What sort of relationship results in forgiveness for attempted genocide? Not one that I think is healthy, or that I should engage with. That’s the kind of relationship that I would advise a friend run from, yet I find you are always able to pull me back in.  _

_ This time it seems like you aren’t even trying. I fall anyway, like you’re some sort of personal gravity well. I resent that too.  _

_ This letter is delightfully presumptuous, is it not? It assumes you ever felt for me what I still feel for you now. You never indicated that to be the case. When we fucked you were present but you never stayed after. When I told you I couldn’t do that anymore you responded with less emotions than when you were having shipping issues with those Andorian fabrics. So maybe you never cared about me like that. Or maybe you kept it hidden. It kills me that I’ll never know.  _

_ I think a lot about your claws in the dirt, building and growing something fertile and new. I must admit I also spend a great deal of time thinking about your claws in my back.  _

_ Write me something real dammit.  _

_ Love,  _

_ Julian  _

  
  


“Computer, save draft,” Julian said. “Open a new reply.” 

With that emotional outburst out of the way, he could focus on writing a real reply. 

  
  


_ Garak,  _

_ It brings great joy to hear you speak of growing things. Isn’t the springtime so healing? I have to say there is something holosuites cannot capture of being on real dirt with real plants (especially not with Quark’s rates). I miss the seasons. Instead all we have are the changing stars. You have to really pay attention to notice that the planets are aligned in such a way to suggest springtime. And you know me, my head is usually too far into my latest obsession to notice the seasons. It’s human nature to long for what we can’t have; perhaps Cardassians are not so different in this matter.  _

_ Life on the station is much the same. I’ve been working on a fungal infection a few crewmen picked up on a trip to the Gamma quadrant. I won’t bore you with the details, but I’ve personally found it quite absorbing. It has an incredible ability to evade the transporters’ biofilters, and replicates quickly. Even more surprising, the fungus can easily access a dormant state to evade all number of treatments. Luckily the symptoms are mild and I am hoping to have better success in the next couple of weeks. I said I wouldn’t bore you with the details and then I did. Classic Julian Bashir -- anyway these are the sort of conversations you're missing. I am sure in the end, Cardassia is much more fulfilling. _

_ All the best,  _

_ Julian  _

“Computer, save draft,” Julian said. “No wait you know what, I can do better. Delete that.” He stood up and began to pace. Why was writing Garak such a struggle?

The only thing for it was to take some time, and think about other things Julian realized. He looked at the clock and realized he was nearly late. Some of the medical staff were throwing a birthday for one of the new doctors at Quark’s. It would be a perfect distraction. 

***

Four hours and too many drinks later Julian found himself wandering back to his quarters. The party had been more fun than expected, and it seemed much of the station had shown up to celebrate. It was warming and joyful and almost distracting. But now, alone and walking through the habitat ring his thoughts were drawn back to Garak. 

His brain betrayed him, reminding him of all things of the first time they had sex. It was over 5 years ago and he was in Quark's then too, pleasantly tipsy but not more. The station held all sorts of memories, both cruel and joyful. This one felt like both. 

Garak had stopped into Quark’s to say hello, his hands ghosting over Julian’s shoulders. He had barely sat down next to Julian at the bar when he remarked that the bar always gave him a headache. 

“We could go somewhere else if you like,” Julian had offered, young and overeager. 

“Don’t offer if you’re not willing to deliver.” Garak’s eyes sparked a mischievous blue. 

“You could join me in my quarters.” Alcohol made him bold. But then, was there a universe where he didn’t offer? Regardless, Garak had happily followed him home and pushed him into bed. 

The sex had been needy and pushy, an intoxicating mixture of gentle kisses and hard bites. It had been like cutting cold butter with a warm knife. It was slow until it wasn’t, turning desperate. It was the first of many. Always in Julian’s quarters. 

It wasn’t something they discussed; with each other or anyone else. It had been easy to say it was casual and meaningless, but now years later and no one to hide from, Julian found his mind lingered on it. It had mattered to him. Had it mattered to Elim? Did Elim ever think back and wonder what would have happened if either of them had let the other in? Or was it just sex for him? A need fulfilled conveniently by a friend when no more appropriate options were available. 

Those blue eyes had looked at him with something. Was it love? Or was that Julian’s own self-serving memory? 

He entered his quarters in a haze of alcohol, memories stronger than his senses. 

“You know what, Computer, that draft wasn’t so bad. Send draft to Elim Garak.” 

He collapsed on the bed and promptly fell asleep. 

***

He awoke 20 minutes before his alarm the next morning, a cold dread washing over him. Why did he feel dread? All he had done the night before was read Garak’s letter, go drink and then send his reply. 

His brain worked the problem, and it took him only 84 seconds to figure out the source of the dread. 

He had sent the  _ wrong _ draft. He had not saved the second attempt. 

“Never reply to Garak drunk! Julian Subatoi Bashir, what were you thinking?” He paced the room in his blue pajamas. A quick check of his outgoing messages revealed he’d indeed sent his first attempt, his second much more reasonable effort long ago deleted. 

“Fuck!” He sat down on the couch,before immediately getting up and pacing. He was already feeling sweaty and worn out. 

“God that was so unsubtle! No room for deniability. Even if he feels the same he certainly won’t after reading that! Good god Julian, you’ll have to give the friendship up entirely. Certainly it can’t survive this.” 

After shouting and pacing about his quarters and entirely wearing himself out, Julian collapsed on his couch. Well, there was nothing for it but to go to work. A little distraction was never a bad thing. 

***

Garak’s reply came two days later. 

  
  


_ Julian,  _

_ It startles me to find you didn’t know I had been writing you love letters for nearly 8 months. Well, I have been. Come to Cardassia. Have lunch with me.  _

_ Elim  _

**Author's Note:**

> If this is the sort of thing you like I have more where this came from... You can check out [Drafts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27260143) which is from Garak's POV or [anyone but you (no one but you)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25117306) which is set several decades after the end of the show. 
> 
> I have some other more outside of the box things in the pipeline. But this is my box and darn it I will write more sappy letter writing fics if I please!


End file.
